Stranded!
by A. L. Nowicki
Summary: "The Ghost Writer" fic. Elizabeth Strack has to go on a trip by herself, leaving Cindy stuck in the creepy mansion with her new stepfather and stepbrother. How will she survive? Rated T for supernatural elements.
1. Off to Chicago

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of these characters.

**Author's Note**: In 1990, Anthony Perkins filmed a pilot for a new television show called _The Ghost Writer_. It was about a horror writer (played by Perkins, obviously!) who remarries after his first wife dies, only to have his second wife completely terrified by his family and his lifestyle.

Unfortunately, the pilot was never made into a series, although the episode _has_ aired on television a couple of times (or so I've been told.) It's available for viewing on YouTube, if anyone is interested. I recently viewed it for the first time, and I couldn't help but start to write about it.

* * *

"_Tomorrow night_? I have to be there that soon?"

Cindy Strack knew something was wrong when she heard the alarm in her mother's voice. Elizabeth Strack was usually so calm, but she seemed to be panicking as she spoke over the phone in the living room.

"Are you _sure_ this can't be put off for a week or so? I mean, my husband just got home from a book tour, he's not feeling well, and…" Elizabeth was cut off by whoever was speaking on the other line. Finally, she closed her eyes and put her free hand to her forehead in defeat. "All right, I understand. I'll book a flight right away, and I'll call you back to tell you what time I'm coming in. Goodbye."

"What's going on, Mommy?" Cindy asked immediately as her mother hung up the phone.

Elizabeth Strack sighed. "Honey, I have to fly back to Chicago. They sold our house, and I have to sign it over to the new owners." Before her daughter even asked, Elizabeth shook her head. "And I'm sorry, but you can't come with me. I'll be too busy to look after you."

"But Mommy-" Cindy protested, her eyes widening in pure panic.

"Sweetheart, it's only going to be for a few days. You're going to stay here, and Anthony will look after you."

"_No, Mommy_!" Cindy cried in terror, tears of panic welling up in her eyes.

Anthony Strack was Cindy's new stepfather, and Elizabeth's new husband. Elizabeth and Anthony had met on one of his book tours, and Elizabeth and her daughter had moved into Anthony's home, a creepy old mansion in upstate New York. Anthony refused to live anywhere else; he insisted that the house helped him as a writer. He was, after all, the world's bestselling horror novelist.

But Cindy was scared to death. She thought her new stepfather was, in reality, a crazed murdering lunatic. Anthony looked the part—he was tall, lanky, and quiet, and had a low, dark voice—but her mother knew him as nothing more than a loving husband.

"Honey, Anthony loves you," Elizabeth insisted, wrapping her daughter in her arms. "Besides, he's not feeling well. He'll feel a lot better if you stay here and help Miss Blasko take care of him." Miss Blasko was the Stracks' housekeeper, whom Cindy found equally as creepy. She wore nothing but black dresses and blood-red lipstick, and Cindy swore she had fangs.

"I don't want to be near him, Mommy! He still scares me!"

"Cindy, dear, he's a gentle man who adores you. Here, let's go upstairs and see him. Let's bring him something to drink; he's probably thirsty."

Anthony Strack also stuck close to home for another reason; book tours wore him out. He was never able to sleep in hotel beds, so he arrived home exhausted, nursing immense headaches. Visits to New England and Minnesota cities tore apart and congested his chest. Eating food he wasn't used to gave him stomachaches. After returning home, he took to bed for several days, and this book tour wasn't any different. He was asleep in he and Elizabeth's bedroom now.

Cindy numbly took her mother's hand as they went up the stairs of the Strack home. The master bedroom was the first bedroom on the right upon reaching the top of the stairs; Cindy hung back, but Elizabeth quietly pried open the door, took her daughter's hand, and entered quietly.

Anthony Strack, wearing pajamas and a loose robe, had just woken up from a nap. Lying in bed, he stretched his arms out in a yawn, and smiled at seeing his wife. "Hello, darling Elizabeth."

"Anthony, dear, I have some sad news. I have to return to Chicago for the closing on our house. I have to be there tomorrow evening, and I probably won't return for a couple of days."

"That's all right, sweetheart." Anthony's voice was gentler than usual due to his fatigue. He gave out a few hacking coughs, and took a sip of water from the glass on his nightstand to calm his throat down. "We can look after young Cindy until you return."

"But Mommy-" Cindy began alarmingly, hugging her mother tightly around the waist.

Elizabeth and Anthony exchanged glances. There was nothing more to be said.

"Cindy, darling, I need someone to help take care of me while your mother's away," Anthony said to his stepdaughter as gently as he could. "I'm sick in bed, and this chest cold is making me miserable."

"Cindy, dear, we can talk on the phone three times a day. I promise," Elizabeth said, reaching for her daughter' s hand and squeezing it as Anthony gave out another dry cough. "Come with me to my closet, okay, honey? You can help me pack."

Cindy nodded numbly and followed her mother to her walk-in-closet. There was no use arguing anymore; her mother was going to leave whether she protested or not.


	2. The Ouija Board

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of these characters.

* * *

Cindy went with Miss Blasko to see her mother off at the airport. Elizabeth had to wipe a tear as Cindy gave her a tight hug.

"I'll call you first thing tomorrow morning," Elizabeth whispered to her daughter. "You go home and let Miss Blasko tuck you in."

Cindy nodded numbly. "Okay, Mommy." She just stared ahead in dull indolence.

"Don't look at me like that, Cindy. I can't help it, sweetheart."

Cindy nodded again, said goodbye to her mother, and allowed Miss Blasko to escort her back to the car.

* * *

It was very difficult to sleep that night. Cindy must have lie in bed for hours before she fell asleep. She didn't know what was going to happen in the house without her mother. Plus, her mother and Anthony's bedroom was right next to hers, and Anthony's terrible coughing echoed through the wall.

The next morning, Cindy spoke with her mother very briefly on the phone; Elizabeth had to get to a meeting. "Call me at lunchtime, sweetheart!" Elizabeth called. "Miss Blasko has the phone number to my hotel room! If I'm not there, just leave a message."

"Okay," Cindy mumbled dejectedly. Sure, she could talk on the phone with her mother three times a day, but she wanted those phone calls to last more than a couple of seconds.

After barely touching her breakfast, Cindy sat down at the piano to practice with Miss Blasko; the housekeeper had started giving her lessons about a month ago.

Miss Blasko was actually smiling. She told her young charge that she would be ready to play for "Master Shrack" soon.

Miss Blasko's smile gave Cindy the creeps.

At the end of the lesson, Cindy decided to practice some more before lunch. There was nothing else to do anyway, except for sit in her room and play with her dolls by herself—which was getting pretty boring—and visit Anthony, which she wouldn't do if her life depended on it.

Of course, there was always someone else in the house she could play with.

"Hey, Cindy, want to play with my Ouija board?" Edgar, Cindy's stepbrother, was at the foot of the stairs, clad in his usual ensemble of all black. Edgar didn't like Cindy when she and her first moved into the house, but she was definitely beginning to grow on him.

"What a Ouija board?"

"It's what I use to talk to the deceased."

Cindy gave her stepbrother a look. "Why in the world would I want to do that?"

Edgar sighed. "Because there are some _really_ interesting people out there! Last week, I talked to Truman Capote, and the week before that, I talked to Ernest Hemingway, and the week before that-"

An idea popped into Cindy's head, and she gasped, her eyes going wide. "Edgar…do you think the Ouija board would put me in touch with my dad?"

"Your father who passed away?"

"Yeah. He died five years ago."

Edgar shrugged. "Well, we can try."

"Where's your Ouija board?"

"In my father's study. He's sick and probably won't write for a couple of days. Some day, that study is going to be mine." Cindy paled.

"Come on, the dead don't like to be kept waiting!"

"O-okay," Cindy said nervously, heading for Anthony Strack's study.

* * *

Edgar had the Ouija board set on Mr. Strack's coffee table. He and Cindy both kneeled on the floor, and for a while, Cindy just stared at it. "What do we do?" she finally asked.

"Well, you put both of your hands on the pointer, and then we ask a question. If you ask a yes or no question, the pointer will glide toward either 'YES' or 'NO.' If you ask an open-ended question, the pointer will spell out the answer using the alphabet. Look, the letters are all here." He gestured toward the center of the board, where the letters of the alphabet were spelled out about an inch apart.

"Who moves the pointer?"

"The spirits," said Edgar mysteriously.

Cindy glowered. There were no such thing as spirits—at least, that's what her mother kept drilling into her head—but after moving into the Stracks' house, Cindy wasn't so sure her mother knew what she was talking about. "Well…where do we start?" she asked, placing her hands on the pointer.

Edgar shrugged. "Ask a question. What's your late father's name?"

"Frank Martin."

"Ask for Frank Martin."

Cindy shrugged. "Okay." She looked upward toward the ceiling. "Is my father, Frank Martin, available to talk to us?"

Very slowly, the pointer slid Cindy and Edgar's hands to the word NO.

"Where is he, then, if we can't speak to him?" Edgar spoke up.

_That was a good question_, Cindy thought to herself. Eagerly, she leaned over the coffee table. The pointer slid to the letter S, then L, then E.

"S-L-E…I bet it's spelling out the word 'sleep,'" Cindy guessed aloud. Sure enough, the pointer lingered for a while on E, then slid over to P. "My father's sleeping."

"Let's ask about my mother," Edgar suggested.

"Okay. Hey, this is pretty fun! Edgar, how often do you do this?"

"A couple of times a day. I very much enjoy speaking with the dead."

Cindy didn't ask why, but she made a mental note to herself to play with the Ouija board with Edgar more often. Maybe someday, she would finally be able to talk with her deceased father.

"Is Judith Strack available?" Edgar asked aloud. Very slowly, the pointer slid to the word NO.

"Then where is Edgar's mother?" Cindy piped up.

Very slowly, the pointer spelled out the word W-I-T-H. Then it slid over to the letter A. Then N, then T, then H.

"A-N-T-H…I bet it's spelling out my father's name, Anthony," Edgar mused. Sure enough, the pointer finished up with O-N-Y.

"With Anthony," Cindy stated. "What could that mean? Is she watching over your father as he's sleeping?"

"Sure," Edgar agreed. "I think she's still in love with my father, even though she's dead. I wouldn't be surprised if my father's bedroom is haunted by her spirit."

Cindy rolled his eyes. All of his spook talk was going from uncomfortable to just plain annoying. He never stopped.

"Children, it's time for lunch," Miss Blasko called, knocking on the study door.

"Come on, Cindy. We'll talk with the spirits some more this afternoon."

"I want to ask about my grandmother next!" Cindy clamored.

As she followed her stepbrother to the dining room, she forgot all about wanting to call her mother in Chicago.


	3. A Present From Anthony

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of these characters.

* * *

Edgar wasn't so bad. In fact, he was a very protective stepbrother.

He and Cindy played with the Ouija board together. They played more board games together. They also read together—Cindy preferred _Alice in Wonderland_, while Edgar, who insisted that the horror novels of R.L. Stine were for wimps, went for the hard-core stuff. Stephen King's _Storm of the Century_ was the book he was working on now.

Edgar was in the same boat as Cindy. While Cindy was missing her mother, Edgar was disappointed that every time he asked Miss Blasko if he could visit his father, he was met with a sneering, "Master Strack is sick and sleeping. No visitors."

The good news for Cindy was that her mother was going to return home early. "I went to the meeting, Cindy, and we did what we had to do, and I might be able to get put on a flight home in a couple of hours," Elizabeth told her daughter over the phone after dinner that night. "They put me on standby."

"What does that mean?"

"That means that if they have an empty seat on the plane, I'm allowed to take it. There's a flight leaving in three hours, and as soon as I hang up with you, I'm going to go to the airport to see if I can get on it."

Cindy smiled. "That's great, Mommy."

"I know! I might be able to get home as early as very late tonight. If I don't get home, I'll call you first thing tomorrow morning. You be good for Miss Blasko."

"Okay, Mommy. I love you, Mommy."

"I love you too, honey."

Cindy hung up the phone in her stepfather's office and headed back to her bedroom. She wanted to change into her nightgown and read for some more before bed.

To her surprise, her stepfather was sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting for her. He was holding a basket in his arms that was wrapped with tissue paper.

"H-hi, Anthony," Cindy said to her stepfather, trying not to stutter. She could feel her face going pale.

"Hi, Cindy," Anthony smiled warmly. He was dressed in a pair of pajamas, with a red robe tied tightly around his small waist. "Come up and sit by me. I brought you a book tour present."

"A _what_?"

"A book tour present," Anthony explained as Cindy sat down beside her stepfather. She was careful to sit with several inches separating them; she was still afraid of this guy. They were alone in her bedroom and the door was open, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know what was inside that basket. "I get upset when I have to go away for a couple of months at a time and leave my family, so when I'm on a book tour, I buy little presents for those that I love. I gave Edgar a deck of tarot cards."

Cindy didn't know what tarot cards were, and she didn't ask.

Anthony handed the basket to his stepdaughter, who took it carefully. "Open it," he said gently. "I picked it out just for you."

Cindy took the basket with trepidation, and carefully removed the tissue paper. Inside the basket was a very beautiful stuffed animal unicorn; she had snow-white fur and a gorgeous gold horn.

Cindy's eyes went wide with surprise. "I _love her_!" she exclaimed happily to Anthony. "She's _beautiful_!" She hugged her new stuffed animal happily.

Anthony wrapped an arm around his stepdaughter's shoulder. "Your mother told me you had a penchant for these…these _happy children's things_," he said, spitting out the last couple of words with unusual distaste.

But Cindy wasn't paying a bit of attention. "Oh, thank you, Anthony, _thank you_! I'll love her forever!"

"I'm glad you're happy, sweetheart." Anthony gave his little stepdaughter a kiss on the cheek. "Remember, Cindy…" he knelt on the floor beside her bed, his hands on both of her shoulders. "I'm your stepfather, and I care very much about you. I can't help it that I write scary books for a living. Please don't be afraid of me."

Cindy stared at him, then smiled. "I used to be scared of you, Anthony," she told him, "but I'm not that scared anymore."

Anthony smiled. "I'm very glad to hear that, Cindy." He turned around and gave out a hacking cough.

"Are you okay?"

"I may not sound okay, but I'm actually feeling a lot better." He stood up. "I'm going to take a hot bath and then go to bed. You have Miss Blasko tuck you in when you're ready."

"Anthony, Mommy said she might be coming home tonight."

"I know, sweetheart. I don't know what time she'll be here, if it all. I told her to take a taxicab home if it's too late." He kissed his daughter on the forehead, and went off to his room. Cindy sat on her bed and hugged her new unicorn.

Anthony really was a very nice man.


	4. The Thunderstorm

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of these characters.

**Author's Note**: Okay, so this isn't the most action-packed story in the world, but it's meant to be a lovey-dovey family story. Don't worry, though…I'm going to end it after about one more chapter.

* * *

Cindy had fallen asleep around her usual bedtime, but was awakened around eleven that evening by a horrible thunderstorm; a thunderstorm that could only happen in the middle of summer. Lightning lit up Cindy's bedroom, and thunder cracked so hard that those stories her mother used to tell her about angels bowling in the sky couldn't possibly be true.

Another crack in the sky sent Cindy hiding under her covers, but that was a small condolence. A flash of lightning burst through Cindy's bedroom window, and it was easily visible from under Cindy's blanket.

Cindy gulped. She knew that these summertime thunderstorms were usually very quick, but in the middle of the night, that didn't matter. She easily became very afraid, jumping at every clap of thunder and freezing up at every lightning bolt. What if one of those lightning bolts struck a tree, and that tree fell right through her bedroom window?

Frightened, Cindy flew out of bed, and without even remembering her slippers, ran down the hall to her mother's room.

"Mommy! _Mommy_!" she howled, flinging open her mother and stepfather's bedroom door and hurriedly scampering in. She flung herself down in the middle of the bed and inched toward the right. Her mother always lie on the right side of the bed.

But tonight, there was nobody lying on her mother's side of the bed. "_Mommy_?" Cindy panicked.

"She's still in Chicago, Cindy. She hasn't made it home yet," grumbled a voice from the other side of the bed. A lamp turned on, and Cindy saw her stepfather sit up in bed, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot," Cindy whimpered.

"What's the matter, Cindy?" Anthony Shrack asked, extending his arms in a yawn. He was wearing navy blue satin pajamas, and had been sleeping like the dead. His cough medicine knocked him out.

Almost on cue, another crack of thunder crashed against the sky.

"The storm scares me," Cindy mumbled, crawling under her mother's side of the bed and hugging the blankets.

Anthony smiled, inched over to his stepdaughter, and gave her a hug. "It's okay, Cindy. Your mother told me you were afraid of these thunderstorms."

"Is Edgar afraid of thunderstorms?"

"No. He enjoys them. In fact, he sometimes comes in to wake me up so I can sit through them with him."

Cindy was confused, but didn't dwell on it too much. The loudest thunderclap yet boomed across the sky, and Cindy inadvertently hugged the first person in front of her—Anthony.

"It's okay, Cindy," Anthony soothed. "How about you sleep in here tonight, okay? I'll protect you."

Cindy gulped. She didn't know what she was more afraid of: the storm, or sleeping in her parents' room without her mother.

"How about we go back to your room to get your unicorn?" Anthony prompted. "You can hug your unicorn when you're scared."

_That's a pretty good idea_, Cindy thought. She knew that deep down, she trusted Anthony; she knew he wanted her to be safe, even though she wasn't completely comfortable with him on the surface. "Will you come with me, Anthony?" she said quietly.

"Of course! Let's go, sweetheart."

Cindy got out of bed, and Anthony put his hand on her shoulder as they made their way down the hallway. Cindy stopped in her room to pick up her unicorn, but just as she placed her hands on it, another angry clap of thunder sounded. This one sounded loud enough to topple an entire building, if thunder was able to do that.

Frightened, Cindy ran back out into the hallway and wrapped her arms around Anthony, still clutching her unicorn in one hand.

Anthony smiled and hugged his stepdaughter. "It's all right. You're safe," he told her gently. "Come on, let's go back to bed and try to get some sleep."

Moments later, Cindy lie in her mother's side of the bed. Anthony had let out a few dry coughs, but then had tapered off and fallen back to sleep rather quickly.

Outside the window, a large bolt of lightning lit up the sky. Cindy snuggled underneath her mother's covers, but wasn't as scared as she was in her room. After all, this bedroom was larger than hers, and the windows were further away. Besides, Anthony was sleeping between her and the windows. _He'll protect me_, Cindy smiled.

Within another few minutes, the thunderstorm had waned. Everything was dark again; feeling sleepier than ever, Cindy closed her eyes and let Anthony's soft breathing lull her to sleep.


End file.
